Proposals
by klipdoctor
Summary: "I don't think that women understand just how much time, effort and anxiety goes into making a proposal." How Charles' proposal to Molly went down - through his eyes. One-shot. Little different from my usual style - interested to see what you make of it. Please R&R!


I wasn't going to do a one-shot about Charles' proposal to Molly despite the number of requests for one. I thought I handled it perfectly well in **_Common Ground_**. But then this idea popped into my head. So I thought I'd give it a go. It's a bit different to my usual style. Please R&amp;R. Set in my **_Captain's Log_** universe.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

* * *

**Proposals**

I don't think that women understand just how much time, effort and anxiety goes into making a proposal. They just see the end product and think _"oh how romantic (or not) and that's a nice ring (or not). Now I can sit down and start planning my dream wedding!"_

But for us guys there's lots of stress and moving parts…you've got to pick the right time (not too soon, but not too long into the relationship either), ask the father's permission (and the grandmother's in my case!), get the ring, choose the right place for the proposal, write the speech. And that's not the worst. Then you've got to bloody ask her! All on your own, without anyone to support you.

And you hope it's the right answer. But always at the back of your mind there's the worry that it won't be, and then you'll be sitting (or kneeling) high and dry in the opera house in Vienna or on some beach in the Caribbean and she says "No" and you're left with a three grand ring, missed dinner reservations and a very uncomfortable rest of the holiday…

And after all that the real pain starts. Choosing when to have the wedding. Where to have it. What will be the budget? Who will come (and, more importantly, who won't)? Hearing endlessly about the search for the right invitations, wedding dress, bridesmaids' dresses, flowers. Worrying about the seating plan. Dealing with two pissed off mothers, both convinced that they should get more say in the process. Choosing a videographer, a DJ, a photographer, food. The more I think about it, the more I wonder why we as men go through this? But at the end of the day we started it, with that bloody question…

Luckily on the day my proposal to Molly went off without a hitch. Until we got back of course. But I won't say the preparation wasn't really hard work. Oh my God. I think I aged about ten years. The wedding? Well, that's a story for another time…

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Making the decision**

Well, Molly was a bit of a no-brainer really. The trouble is that the experience with Rebecca rather made me second guess myself. I mean, I was already divorced by the time I was 27. That's not a great statistic, particularly when you think it's supposed to be for life!

Molly and I moved in together in November 2014, just after she got back from her second tour. I pretty much knew then and there that Molly was special. I remember my iceberg howler on our first date. But I meant what I said. I understood that I had only seen a bit of the real Molly from being on tour with her, but the point was that the little bit I had seen was so exciting that I _had_ to explore the rest of her that she didn't share with us.

I reckoned that if we could live together for six to nine months without killing each other then marriage was a distinct possibility. The only two things that worried me, well three I suppose, were the class difference, the age difference, and her confidence.

It's true, I was worried about social differences at the beginning but once all of our nearest and dearest had met and got on OK I never again worried that the class difference was going to be an issue. And after that first Christmas where our parents collaborated on our photo frames I knew for certain that it wasn't going to be a problem.

Our ages _were_ a real concern to me. I worried that by being in a relationship with Molly I would be holding her back. I mean, she was 19 when we deployed and 20 when we moved in together. I'm the best part of eight years older than her. That's a lot. I also worried that when we moved in together I would find that she was too immature for me and maybe I would be too mature (dull) for her. I mean, I've been through a lot – marriage, divorce, having a son, and four tours of Afghanistan. But the thing is, Molly's been through a lot too. Notwithstanding Afghanistan, which certainly made her grow up quickly, there is also her family life and her upbringing. I think having to be a second parent to all her sisters and brothers matured her before her time.

I'm not saying that we don't have our moments. There are times that we both like a blow-out. There are times when we want a blow-out at separate times and the other just has to deal with it. And there are times that we both royally piss each other off. Of course there are. There are in any relationship. But Molly is such a giving person. We all saw it in Afghan and I see it every day. She is so empathic, patient and kind and it's difficult to stay angry with her for long, though God knows how she puts up with me!

However, she _is_ under-confident. That was also obvious in Afghan, and very much since. I spend a lot of my time, although thankfully less of it these days, building her up. Reassuring her that what she is doing or has done is right. Sometimes cajoling her, encouraging her. Sometimes bullying her. Like with this course in Trauma Medicine we're doing. I had to throw my toys out of the pram with that one. She was going on about how she wasn't smart enough to do a degree and I knew that if she just looked at the course she would find out that she could do it with her eyes closed. It was the written portion she would probably struggle with, but I thought if we did it together I could help her with it. I had to shout and pretend to get into a huff and storm upstairs. But that made her actually look at the material and realise she _could_ do it. The make-up sex that night was brilliant! And she's acing the course, as I always knew she could. I think that the confidence boost from realising that actually she's not unintelligent, just uneducated, is just as big as when she came into the Army and realised that she was a very competent woman with usable skills.

I was quite worried at the beginning that she would get carried away with our different social backgrounds and upbringings and decide that she wasn't worthy of me, when in fact I often feel that I am not worthy of her. But we seem to have weathered that storm, particularly with the increased confidence associated with her progression in the Army. The second tour, her passing the PNCO course and getting the promotion to Lance Corporal, and the degree have kicked a lot of that into touch. I hope for ever.

So once we had lived together for 12 months with no major flare ups I was pretty sure I had found a keeper. And it was an easy decision to make. I've always been pretty decisive; you have to be in my line of work (both of them actually). At least I wasn't like my friend Andy who left it so long that his girlfriend had to start dropping hints… In fact I'm convinced that Molly had no inkling whatsoever that the question was imminent.

So making the decision was the easy part. It all went downhill from there.

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Asking the parents**

I was shitting myself about asking her parents. I'm sure, technically, it wasn't even necessary. By Dave's reaction I'm sure he hadn't expected to be consulted, but I'm a stickler for tradition and it was important to me that it was done right, for Molly. I wondered for a long time about how to do it. I get on well enough with Dave; it's helped by me supporting West Ham (under his tutelage) and the fact that we sometimes go to rugby and football matches together (he supports Bath) and I often stand him a drink (maybe that's most of the reason!). However it's Belinda and Marge I'm closest to, Marge especially.

She's an annoying, irreverent, opinionated old coot, but I love her dearly, even if she does take the piss out of me all the time and, worse, call me Charlie! She's really good fun and enlivens all family gatherings, and she's always there to support me when Molly is away (or Molly when I'm away), and she's wonderful with Sam as well (he calls her Grandma Marge which is fine with my mother and father who know her, but doesn't go down too well with Rebecca's parents who regard her as an usurper).

Technically neither Marge nor Belinda should have been there when I asked Dave, but I wanted to engineer a way that they could be there since I reckoned there was a good possibility I'd need them for moral support.

For starters I needed an opportunity to ask them when Molly wasn't there. I can be in London during the week when she's in Aldershot so that wasn't going to be an issue, but I also needed a way to engineer only speaking to the three of them. If one of the other kids were there I risked being overheard and I love Molly's siblings to bits (more than I ever thought I would) but there's no way that any one of them (including Bella) could sit on a secret like that for more than an hour!

I resolved that I would go to Marge's flat and maybe Dave and Belinda could join me there, with Shazza staying at the Dawes home with the kids for a little while. That was a good plan but engineering the meeting was tough, to say the least, and not only because Dave and Marge don't get on. But what do you say? _I want you and your wife to come round to your mother-in-law's house to meet me in secret so I can ask your permission to marry your daughter?_ I don't think so! I had to let the cat partially out of the bag with Belinda. If only so that she could organise Shazza coming over to cover for them and then get Dave over to Marge's. I came up with some sort of Bullshit about wanting to plan a surprise party for Molly. I thought it was totally transparent but actually it transpired that Belinda had no idea. I bet if I'd used that excuse on Marge then she would have got it straightaway, the wily old goat!

So I managed to get my cast assembled at 16.00 one cold Wednesday afternoon in January. I'm slightly out of order here because I'd already decided where I was going to make the proposal, but more on that later.

I had hemmed and hawed about how I was going to ask them but finally decided on the direct approach. They are a direct family and I thought that too much prevarication was just likely to confuse matters. I took the afternoon off work, and that was a mistake. It just gave me more time to think about it and over-analyse it. Oh well, you live and learn. Although hopefully I'll not need to use this particular lesson again! After wasting as much time as possible, I set off, not before stopping in for a glass of Dutch courage at a local bar. Oh, and some chewing gum.

The actual act of asking belied all the effort I'd put into it. We'd made small talk and Marge had served us all a cup of tea, and she simply said, "So Charlie, why 'ave you got us all 'ere then?"

It wasn't quite how I'd expected or planned it but I suppose I should have expected that from the Dawes family by now! I looked at Dave, probably like a rabbit caught in the headlights, but hopefully not and simply said, "I wanted to ask Dave for his permission to ask Molly to marry me."

Tumbleweed.

You've all heard the expression, but it really was. Molly told me once about their reaction when she told them she was joining the Army. This must have been like that. It looked like I'd broken them. They all just stared at me. Nobody said a thing. I was starting to get a bit concerned so I decided to launch into my prepared speech. Just as I was opening my mouth to start to tell them about how Molly was "it" for me and I really loved her, Marge interrupted, "You what Charlie?"

Now it was my turn to gulp like a fish. You know how when you're concentrating on one train of thought and then someone pulls you back to something else it takes a few seconds to focus back on what they're talking about? I was like that. Finally I sorted myself out and decided to lay it out in words of one syllable, "I want to marry Molly and I wanted to ask her parents' permission."

Finally this seemed to cut through their shock. Belinda and Marge exchanged looks, "Aw bless. It's really sweet of you to ask us, Charles," said Belinda, "but you don't need our permission." Dave seemed really chuffed even to be asked, "She's 'er own girl, our Mols," he told me, "but thanks fer askin' me all the same Charles".

I explained how I just wanted to do it properly and they told me that I was really sweet but it wasn't necessary. We made small talk for a while and then I asked them the one thing that was really worrying me, "You don't think she's still a bit young do you?"

Belinda and Dave smiled at each other, "Don't look at us mate – I was 19 when we got married and Dave was 20."

I looked at Marge, questioningly. "Don't look at me either Charlie – I was 18."

I couldn't help myself. Before I could stop them the words "Oh Dear," tumbled out of my mouth. It was intended as a joke, but I realised it could be taken negatively.

"What's that?" asked Marge. I decided to go with my train of thought and was desperately hoping she'd take it as a joke in the way it was intended and not be hurt. I shouldn't have worried, "Well I didn't realise you were so young. I was just pondering that I'll have to put up with my grandmother-in-law for a lot longer than I thought!"

"You cheeky blighter! I'm gonna take back my permission!" she hollered, sitting forward and glaring at me.

But Dave wasn't having any of it. In fact he was pissing himself laughing. "Brilliant Charles – I've been waitin' for someone to give the old bat what for for 20 odd years!"

Belinda was giggling too and told her mum, "You can't Mum, the grandmother doesn't give permission. It's the Dad, so Dave's the only one that counts!"

"Yeah and don't you forget it! He's got my vote!"

It looked like Marge was about ready to blow a fuse and I needed to find some way to defuse the situation so I told her, "Well it looks like the only way you're going to get rid of me is if Molly says no then Marge."

She sat back, grumbling, "And that's not likely to 'appen. But don't think I'm gonna forget this Charlie James!" she told me, glaring, "You're gonna have to do some 'igh quality grovellin' and you'd better sit me next to a real looker at the wedding or there'll be trouble!"

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Getting the ring**

So that was asking the parents out of the way. The next chore was getting the bloody ring. The other reason for getting the Dawes women together was asking them to help me choose the ring. Most of Molly's best friends are army friends, and many of them, but not all, are male. To be fair, she is getting close to Matt Geddings' fiancée, Nina, but not close enough to ask her advice on buying an engagement ring, I don't think. The fact that Molly doesn't talk to her friends from childhood any more mitigated against asking them. Which left her family. Luckily asking Marge and Belinda to go shopping with me to help buy the perfect ring for Molly went some way to calming any hurt feelings that Marge may have been nursing. When I said I'd throw in lunch at a swanky restaurant my star was back in the ascendant.

If only I'd known what I was letting myself in for. I suppose Dave doing a runner at this stage might have been a clue though. He wished me luck and told me to join him for a drink to celebrate when she'd said yes. Not willing to count my chickens I told him "if" to which he replied, "If she don't say yes I'll kiss _'er_!" pointing at Marge! Marge grimaced and told me, "I don't like to agree with 'im too often Charlie, but I'll kiss _'im _an' all if she don't say yes. She's 'ead over 'eels fer you Charlie and she'd be a right stupid cow if she said no." I smiled softly, touched by their attempts to reassure me, but still not wanting to jinx the situation.

Over another cup of tea I arranged with the Dawes matriarchs to meet them early the next week for a gander (their word, not mine) around Hatton Garden, followed by a five star meal at the Savoy (my mother has a contact there so I can easily get a reservation at short notice). The ladies were really impressed. Little did I know that organising the day was going to be the easiest part of the proceedings.

I can tell you this. If I **_NEVER_** see Hatton Garden again, it'll still be too bloody soon! I gave Rebecca my grandmother's engagement ring so I didn't go through all this last time. God, I wish I had had another one of those (engagement rings, not grandmothers!). When you're buying engagement rings you learn more than you ever wanted to about diamonds. I know more about inclusions now and how they're classified than I ever knew (or cared) existed. I had no idea there were so many cuts of diamonds. I thought you ate pears and I thought emeralds were another type of gemstone altogether! For those that don't know, Hatton Garden is a street of jewellery shops. It's been the centre of London's jewellery trade since medieval times and really the lamp posts in that area should contain warning signs against men entering the area with overzealous wives, girlfriends or potential mothers or grandmothers in law!

We didn't find the perfect ring before lunch. In fact, we nearly didn't find it after lunch either. By the time we did find _the ring_ I was considering whether I wanted to get married at all. Although I love Molly very much, I was considering that the single life might work very well for me! Eventually we did find it in a very nice shop that we had looked in before (several times) but where the jeweller made his own stuff and had just brought out a new design. For those that are interested it is a 0.5 carat round cut VVS1 on an 18 carat white gold ring. After we (eventually) found the ring, I swore my fellow shoppers to secrecy, chucked them in a cab (I gave the cabbie thirty quid but by that time I would have given him a hundred to get rid of them) and went for a large glass of whisky. I deserved it. I had to tell a little white one to Molly about going for a drink with some guys from work that night to explain why I was so frazzled and why my breath stank of whisky!

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Choosing the right place**

You would think I'd done most of the difficult part, right? Wrong. More thought goes into where to do it than you would honestly think. Us guys are not all complete Neanderthals, whatever girls may think. We understand that girls dream about weddings starting just after they get out of nappies. We understand that girls dream about the perfect proposal just as much as they dream about the perfect wedding dress or the perfect ceremony or the perfect venue. So no pressure then.

Obviously you've got to get the words right, but the place is really important as well. There's no point in having the most romantic proposal in the world if you pop the question in the middle of the fruit and veg aisle at Sainsbury's! Different people have different budgets just as different people have different lives. One of my friends from school did it at the town where he went to university because it was a really special place for him and he wanted it to be a special place to her too. The aforementioned Andy took his long suffering girlfriend to Vienna and did it on the steps of the opera house. Because Molly hasn't travelled that much I wanted to do it abroad because I thought it would have a much better chance of being magical for her than somewhere in the UK. Molly's first reaction when you talk about places in the UK is "That sounds a bit shit!"

While Molly hasn't travelled a hell of a lot, because of my father's job (in the Diplomatic Service) and my time in the Army and in the Red Cross, I think it's safe to say - I have! I've been all round the world (52 countries in fact, on every continent), but there's one region that stands out for me. We went on holiday there when I was just seven years old, and it's always been magical to me ever since; the Caribbean. I've been to places with great people before, I've been to places with palm trees, with great beaches, great hotels, with a great atmosphere and where you feel safe. But I've never been to a place where you had all of those at the same time. Except in the Caribbean. And it's the right time of the year for the Caribbean as well. I was planning on popping the question in February and that's pretty much the best time of the year to go.

So now we just come down to which island to go to. I looked at flight costs and hotel costs and availability and I spoke to lots of friends, family and colleagues (all sworn to secrecy, of course). I wanted to go somewhere with a direct flight so it's less hassle. I didn't want our first long haul holiday to be a hassle for us, so that cut down the list of potential destinations more. The field was basically cut to two countries, Grenada and St Kitts &amp; Nevis. So it's a few days on TripAdvisor when Molly isn't in the house. And finally, we have a winner - St Kitts &amp; Nevis, or more correctly Nevis.

I booked the flight and the hotel, and since it's an overnight flight on the way back I stumped up for Business Class so that we can get some sleep. And also I want to see Molly's face when we get on the plane and turn left. And she sees the flat bed. She still often gets surprised by new experiences, particularly smart hotels, and her face gets this amazing childlike look of wonder which is so sweet to see. I want to be seeing a lot of that look on this trip.

Having chosen the island I then need to choose the venue for my proposal. Having never been to Nevis before I need to ask someone who lives there so I tell the hotel what I want to do and ask them for advice. I've chosen a boutique hotel and they are bend-over-backwards helpful and send me an e-mail with all sorts of options. I choose one and they help me book everything to make sure it goes off without a hitch. I can tell straightaway that I've made the right decision on the hotel at least. Hopefully this is going to be a wonderful trip.

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Writing the speech (and learning the bloody thing)**

I thought this would be the easy bit. I mean Molly's a straight up kind of girl, right? I just need to say _"I love you, do you want to marry me?"_ right? Wrong. It's not that easy. Maybe I overcomplicated it a bit but it's just that there are so many things I wanted to tell her. I mean the woman has saved my life for one thing. I wouldn't even be here worrying about this question if she hadn't stuck her hand into my innards and stopped them falling out!

Then there's the sort of person she is. I mean I admired her before I loved her. She is a very special person. You just have to see how people react to her to know that. There's so much to say about her, and to her, but most of it I'll have to save until our wedding (and Matt Geddings has apparently got some great stories from Basic that I'm looking forward to incorporating in my speech!) I have to keep the proposal quick though. It's a question after all. I mean if I told her everything I loved about her it really would be a speech and, even though I love my wife very much, she does have a short attention span!

So it's even more difficult because I have to tell her how I feel in less than a minute. And I have to be direct. I can't use metaphors or flowery language or anything like that because Molly is just not into that sort of thing.

It took me ages (weeks) to write the speech. To squeeze everything I wanted to say into a short paragraph of prose, thanking her for saving my life, thanking her for helping me recover, thanking her for staying with me even when I didn't tell her about Sam and Rebecca and even when I was a jealous cockwomble. Telling her how much I admire everything she has achieved in her life and about what a wonderful person she is and how nothing would please me more than my sharing the rest of her journey with her. I tested it out on my mother in the end. She cried and told me it was really sweet and that she was sure that Molly would be very touched by it. She also warned me I might have to repeat it to her at some point since when my father proposed to her she was so shocked that she didn't even register what he had said until he asked her to marry him. She was so right as well; Molly told me afterwards that she didn't hear a word of my speech. I nearly cried! It took me weeks to learn it and days of surreptitious revision to learn it and Molly nearly discovered my crib sheet when she was searching for our boarding cards at the airport. Luckily I was able to bluff it out! She made me give her the speech again after we had gone to bed that evening. I had to hold her after she burst into tears. I'm glad she didn't have that reaction when I asked her or I would have been very worried! But, when she got control of herself, she told me it was a perfect proposal, so all's well that ends well I suppose.

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Doing it**

Why do we put ourselves through this? I got the reaction I wanted from Molly when she flung her arms around me and screamed _"Yes!"_ so I guess all the planning was worth it.

But I swear it took years off my life putting it all together. To be fair, the hotel staff were great. I already knew I had picked a good hotel from my interaction with them before the trip and when we arrived on the first night, although we were so late getting in that we only had a room service meal. The manager waited to greet us until we got there even though we were two hours late and the food was to die for! But I knew I had picked well with Nevis the first morning. It truly was amazing. Better than I had remembered the Caribbean being before.

And the great thing about going with your girlfriend on a sunshine holiday, which I hadn't appreciated so much before, is the amount of fun you can have in applying sunscreen. That started out being a high point for me on the first morning and it never lost its lustre!

I had organised the hire car for the second day we were there and before we got there they put the cool box in it with our lunch for the day, along with a complimentary bottle of champagne – which I thought was a really sweet touch. The manager and the receptionist both wished me "good luck" when Molly had already gone out to the car. I thanked them and we got on our way. We drove around for a few hours before I got us to Lovers Beach, a secluded beach that the hotel had recommended. Molly and I walked through the trees down to the beach and found it deserted, a pleasant surprise. I bedded her down on her towel, put up the sun umbrella so it would shade her head and then went back for the cool box. When I got back to the beach she looked like a Goddess, lying face up on her towel, dozing in the sun. She is bloody beautiful and she certainly looked it, with her pale skin, toned body, lovely breasts and gorgeous dark hair splayed out on the towel. I lay down next to her and held her hand as we listened to the waves breaking on the shore. It was just about as perfect as it could get.

But I was getting steadily more nervous. Around midday I couldn't bear it any more and I got up and started preparing everything. I whipped out some snacks and took the ring out from its hiding place in my swimming trunks pocket. I had just taken a deep breath when Molly's surprised voice demanded, "Charlie, what's that champagne for?"

It was now or never. I turned round. Molly was sitting up, her green eyes looking at me curiously. I went down on one knee, held out the ring and told her, "Molly, since we met you've totally changed me. When we met I thought you were a gobby, green medic, but since I've got to know you, you've totally changed my world. You are my best friend, my confidante, my lover and my conscience. You saved my life and now I can't imagine my life without you in it. I admire you more than anyone else I've ever met. You fight through adversity but you care so much for the people around you. You are the most special person I know. Molly Dawes, will you marry me?"

The look of surprise on her face was complete. She looked at my eyes, and then at the ring, and then back to my eyes, just as I finished my speech. The seconds seemed to drag out but then that look of ecstasy came onto her face and she flung her arms around me, shouting "_Yes!_" She nearly knocked the ring out of my hand. I grasped her hand and slid the ring onto the requisite digit before I went in for the kiss. We clung onto each other for what felt like hours before we let go.

I had to sit down. All those weeks of planning and stress and now I had got the answer. And it was the answer I wanted. I managed to recover myself relatively quickly and I popped the champagne and poured it into the glasses. We sat on our beach towels sipping champagne and alternately kissing and cuddling and holding hands, looking out over the waves breaking on the beach.

When we got back to the hotel we found that they had upgraded our room to a beautiful detached villa on the beach, and they had carried all of our stuff there. I didn't think things like that happened any more. While Molly was shown around (wearing that childlike look) I went back to our old room to clear out the safe and thank the manager. We enjoyed christening our new room (the shower room was to die for!) and then we called our parents. It was late in the UK, but both sets were thrilled. Belinda and Marge were desperate to find out whether Molly liked the ring and when she found out that I had gone shopping with them she observed that I must truly love her because she wouldn't wish that experience on anyone. I agreed, but not loudly enough to be heard down the phone! My parents were also thrilled and my mother told Molly that she had been looking forward to officially welcoming her to the family, causing Molly to tear up.

The rest of the trip was fantastic. I feel sure that we will return to Nevis in the future and, if we do, we will certainly return to that hotel. We were both sad to leave, but when we turned left after boarding the plane, Molly's eyes just about popped out on stalks. She was like a little kid for the whole of the flight, playing with the seat, watching the movies, playing the games and enjoying the food and wine. I was looking forward to getting back, throwing a big party to celebrate with our family and friends, and then sitting back to enjoy being engaged to and spending time with the best woman in the world.

\- OG - OG - OG - OG -

**Getting back after proposing to your girlfriend and finding that within two days there's been a tsunami in Indonesia and that you have to go away and co-ordinate relief efforts for an entire country and won't get to see your beautiful fiancée for over six weeks. Oh and then your ex-wife gets cancer and you have to up-sticks and go and take care of your son in Bath.**

Oh, woe is me. Welcome to my life!

THE END

* * *

**A/N This is a very different style to most of my fics. I'd be interested to get any feedback on it. Please review!**


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